Devil's Advocate
by jennyxbc
Summary: Meet Bella Swan - prosecuting attorney in the case of an NFL quarterback accused of raping the niece of a high-profile Senatorial candidate. Enter Edward Cullen - defense attorney wonderboy from LA. A battle of wills, minds and hearts. AH.


The first Twilight Fanfiction that I've attempted in a while! Partially inspired by EL James' Fifty Shades Trilogy - seriously, read!

* * *

"Shit, shit, _shit_!" Bella cursed as she leapt from her bed, staring in horror at the time display on her iPhone.

She hurried into the shower and quickly washed her hair, shaving her legs and underarms with the practiced efficiency of a serial over-sleeper.

The shower woke Bella up properly and she began to think of the day ahead; nothing too stressful, just the beginning of divorce proceedings between two B-List celebrities and a business lunch with her good friend Rosalie Hale, Public Relations extraordinaire, followed by a rape-case review which the district attorney was desperate to push through.

She wasn't exactly looking forward to the divorce proceedings; when would people stop thinking it was a good idea to marry before they'd even finished college and/or decided their sexual orientation?

Jeez, it was enough to put a girl off of marrying altogether. Divorce cases, especially amongst the under 25s, had risen sharply in the past three years, enough to prove that marriage was definitely going out of fashion, and fast. Not that Bella was complaining. The monetary intake of her firm had increased a hell of a lot because of the decline in marital statistics, so much so that she had been able to buy a new car and finally purchase the apartment of her dreams, not to mention giving her well-deserving staff a pay rise and an extra generous Christmas bonus.

(It was a beautiful loft in the Upper West Side of Manhattan. An en-suite master bedroom, two guest bedrooms, an office, a beautiful open-plan kitchen diner with exposed brickwork and ash-wood beams, a lounge complete with _the_ most comfortable burnt orange velvet U-shaped sofa facing an open fire place – a hardly ever used flat-screen TV hanging on the wall above the fire, which her pain in the ass younger brother had insisted upon – and, Bella's favourite room, the 'library'. Two of the four walls were stacked floor to ceiling with shelves and shelves of her beloved books, a corner sofa against the join of the third and fourth wall, though the fourth wall wasn't really a wall at all. It was a window that gave a panoramic view across Manhattan, and Bella loved to curl up in the library with a book and a glass of wine, a little Clair De Lune on in the background and a fire roaring in the hearth.)

She turned off the water and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her head and padding from the bathroom.

Luckily enough for Bella, she wouldn't have to meet the rape victim for another two weeks, not until the case had been completely accepted by the state, and so would be able to remain relatively impartial to the horrific details that she had no doubt would be exposed to during the briefing.

Bella applied some minimal makeup – enough to stop her looking like she'd just rolled out of bed, but not so much that she looked like she'd gotten ready in the dark – and sighed as she gazed at the many beautiful items of clothing in her extensive wardrobe. Bella hated shopping. Hated all clothes in general, really; if she could wear jeans and converse to work every day she most certainly would have done, but thankfully she had a best friend that was one of the assistant buyers at Bloomingdales and kept her regularly supplied with the latest fashions without her having to even leave the confines of her loft.

Easing on a simple white lace underwear set, Bella decided on a white chiffon blouse with a few delicate ruffles down the button-line and a high waisted maroon skirt.

Makeup done, Mary-Jane heels located, earrings in, she was all set to haul ass across town for a Starbucks tall latte with an extra shot. She grabbed her Chanel tote and didn't bother looking over her reflection. Well, not until she had reached the door to my apartment and realised that she still had a teal coloured terrycloth towel wrapped around her head.

Bella rushed back to her bedroom and ran a comb through her unruly mane of brown wavy hair, blasting it with the hairdryer for a few minutes until it was acceptably dry enough to be twisted into a chignon and clipped up out of the way.

She checked her appearance in the mirror before leaving the bedroom this time and shrugged. Bella locked the door and scurried into the elevator, sighing heavily when one half of her downstairs neighbours – Mike – winked at her.

They eventually reached the ground floor and Bella made a hasty exit, grinning at Tyler (the hunky doorman) as he caught her a cab.

"Starbucks on Fourth, please," Bella directed, settling back into the seat and finally switching on her Blackberry.

Damn thing couldn't be trusted not to delay her getting ready further, so it stayed switched off in her purse until the same time every morning. It had only taken her little over twenty minutes to get ready, shower included, so she wasn't exactly running late, but Bella liked to be punctual.

Only thirteen emails in the past seven hours – she was impressed. Two were from Alice, her afore mentioned shopping-saviour, informing her about some new stuff that had come in that would be 'simply divine for her figure and colouring'. Bella snorted. Clothes were _so_ not her thing.

She had one from her brother, one from Rose confirming the time and place of their business lunch, seven from her secretary Angela informing her of minute changes to her schedule later in the day, one from her father, one from her step-sister that had arrived late last night, one from her cousin Jessica and one from an unknown address.

_Ecullen().com_

Huh?

Bella didn't recognise that one, but the 'Cullen and Sons' sounded a little familiar. She read the email and scoffed, deciding not to reply. Let him sweat.

She wracked her brains, trying and failing to remember where the hell she knew that name from. The cab stopped outside of Starbucks and Bella stuffed $15 into the hand of the driver, thanking him and, seeing there was no queue, dashed inside.

* * *

Edward was up two hours before his 7am alarm. In fact, by the time his alarm _did_ go off he'd done 40 minutes of cardio, 20 minutes of weights and another 40 minutes of cardio. _And_ he'd had a shower and gotten dressed, and was now looking through the divorce case he had later that day.

His alarm went off, a violent rock song vibrating it's rhythm against the breakfast bar in his Upper East Side penthouse apartment, and Edward shook his head and switched it off.

Glancing down the divorce papers, Edward frowned a little when he spied the other attorney participating in the proceedings. He didn't normally accept divorce cases, but Quil Atera's name was too big of a deal to _not_ be on Edward's books.

He knew that Quil was going to be wiped clean – his wife of just four months, up and coming movie star Leah Jenkins, had caught him cheating in their bed, and had photographic proof. Worse still, the poor bastard had been so in love with Leah before their marriage that he had offered her $500,000 in a pre-nuptial agreement if she caught him cheating, and a further $400,000 if she managed to acquire evidence, so sure had he been that he would never _ever_ cheat on his beloved. That, along with the fact that they hadn't been married for more than six months, meant that Atera was going to have to fight tooth and nail to stop Leah from practically bankrupting him.

And, making matters catastrophically worse, Leah was nine weeks pregnant with Quil's twins.

Yup, Edward thought with a grimace, the poor bastard was in for a lot of shit.

He loved his job did Edward Cullen, loved the thrill of tying the witnesses in knots and getting his clients off scot free. Well, that was when they were actually innocent; morally, there was nothing worse than letting a murder walk away without punishment, but the money in his bank account and his many cars said otherwise.

And so he whored himself and his talent for being able to talk his way out of a paper bag for his deliciously huge pay-cheque at the end of the month, focussing only on trying to ignore the betrayal shining in the eyes of victims as he left the court room having successfully cleared his client of all charges.

Edward couldn't afford to have a heart. He had been raised in a family of ruthless point proving, where being wrong was a sign of weakness.

He had been an extremely successful Defence attorney in Los Angeles, but his father – the CEO of Cullen & Sons – had decided to open a branch of the law firm in New York. He was the new kid on the block and so couldn't really turn down anything, whether it be a rape trial or a divorce case.

He'd earned his stripes as a lawyer back in LA, but here in NYC he had to start from the bottom, schmoozing his way back to the top of the pile. He'd done the research; his only real competition for clients would be with Swan's, one of the most expensive and yet most successful law-firms in the state.

His debut would be in four weeks time, when his first rape-defence trial in New York would take place.

It was a high-profile case; an NFL quarterback of one of the tri-state teams had been accused of raping one of the nieces of a Connecticut Senatorial candidate. This wasn't just about right and wrong, it was politics too.

Edward knew that if his client won the case and was declared not guilty, it was likely that the Senatorial candidate would not be successful in his campaign, and Edward wasn't sure that he could afford to make such enemies just yet.

However, if his client was to loose, Edward's reputation (and the reputation of Cullen and Sons) would forever be tarnished by his failure, possibly affecting the future of the entire company.

Yeah. It was a tricky one.

Deciding to cover all bases, Edward quickly tapped out an email to the corresponding lawyer on the divorce case. He scrabbled around in the file and found her contact details. Her name was Isabella Marie Swan, unusually pretty for such a reputed hard-ass lawyer, Edward mused. _Fax number, Cell number, Work address, email address..._ There.

He tapped out a formal message and added his name on the end, not expecting a reply for at least another hour or so.

_Dear Miss Swan,_

_Apologies if I am interrupting your slumber. I was emailing to re-confirm our meeting time later today? My client wishes the session to be as short as possible – he has an appointment at 3pm – and so I hope proceedings between the estranged couple will be as simple and as amicable as possible. _

_There are some stipulations with the pre-nup that my client wishes to address. Mr Atera also hopes to withdraw his offer of allowing Mrs Atera (Jenkins?) to attain the summer home they recently purchased in Bahamas, in addition to his discontinuation of paying the lease on their shared penthouse on Fifth avenue, which Mrs Atera is expected to vacate within three weeks. _

_Regards, _

_E. Cullen._

Edward finally decided that enough was enough. He'd head out for a quick coffee and make his way over to the Swan offices on Fourth Avenue.

He chose to hail a cab rather than drive, and after a quick conversation with the Russian cab-driver was soon deposited outside of an upscale-looking Starbucks just half a block from the Swan office.

Ordering a black coffee with an extra shot and one sweetener, Edward took a seat away from the window and pulled out his Macbook. Nope, the Swan woman still hadn't replied, though his 4.30pm appointment had been cancelled and rearranged for the following day. His own assistant, Eric - the most efficient yet irritating homosexual he had ever met - had emailed to say that he had managed to secure a conference call with the LA office but the time had yet to be confirmed.

Edward drained his coffee cup and ordered another to go, tapping his fingers impatiently against the wooden counter as the hands on the clock moved closer towards 8.30am.

He hated to be late, always arriving at least fifteen minutes early for everything. He paid for his second coffee and went back to his chair, pulling his Armani briefcase up off of the table and making for the door.

When Edward Cullen had woken up that morning, he had expected to arrive at his first meeting of the day in a crisp white shirt. However, the brunette female whirlwind that entered Starbucks just as he was leaving thoughtfully ensured that that was not going to happen.

He lost his footing as she crashed into him, unable to stay vertical on her thin stiletto heels and slipping to the floor, pulling him down with her.

His coffee cup flew up into the air and somersaulted as if in slow motion, the disposable plastic top pinging off mid-air and the hot liquid raining down upon them.

...

Bella groaned as the coffee ruined her blouse and stained her skirt, grimacing as the devastatingly handsome (and infuriated) man in front of her scowled.

"Great. Just fucking great," Edward muttered, wiping his hands on his trousers. His eyes found hers and he glared at her. "Thanks a lot."

"It was an accident," Bella said weakly, trying to pull herself up by means of a table and slipping again, banging her knee on the floor. She raised a pleading eyebrow at one of the baristas. "A little help here?" The young, acne spattered teenager offered her a shy hand and Bella took it gratefully, frowning as the angry man - still on the floor – positively glowered at her. "Look, what's your number? I'll pay for it... I'll write you a cheque right now."

Edward got to his feet and sneered at Bella's flustered appearance. "You couldn't afford it. Excuse me."

Bella spluttered indignantly but was unable to reply. The barista leaned down for her bag and handed it to her. "Coffee?" the teen said to her sympathetically, and Bella nodded with a sigh.

"Tall latte, two sweeteners and an extra shot, thanks," she eyed his nametag, "Embry."

The boy blushed and nodded. "No problem, miss."

"Call me Bella," Bella replied with a smile, blowing a curly tendril away from her face. "And get yourself something, too." She handed him a $20 note. "Keep the change. I'm so sorry about the mess." Gesturing to the small puddles of coffee surrounding the entrance to the coffee shop, Bella bit her lip and blood pooled beneath her cheeks.

"That's fine, Bella."

Bella grinned at Embry when he brought her a blueberry muffin, free of charge, and she leaned up to ruffle his hair. "See you same time tomorrow, kid. And I really am sorry about the mess."

...

Edward stormed away from the Starbucks, barely stopping to check for traffic before crossing the busy New York inner city road.

It took him four tries to find the right office block. Damn identical New York sky scrapers.

He entered the lobby of the building where the Swan offices were; the Swan firm was an unusual one, with a team of maybe five or six full time lawyers, three partners within the business and nine interns. The Swan woman clearly liked to keep things an operational size, but would soon have to expand once she realised that Cullen & Sons were going to try and poach clients.

"Edward Cullen. I have a meeting with Mrs Swan?" Edward said politely to the receptionist, and she smiled back at him flirtatiously.

"Your other party hasn't arrived yet, sir. You are welcome to remain here or take the last elevator on the right up to the Swan office floors and wait up there."

Edward blanched. He hated it when clients weren't as early as him. "I'll wait here, if that's quite alright with you."

The woman nodded and blushed, gesturing to the plush red leather couches that were parallel to the reception desk.

...

Bella was furious when she finally reached the privacy of the office. She stormed through the communal area, avoiding the eyes of her co-workers as she swept past them. Ignoring the mutters about her see through shirt, Bella gritted her teeth and clenched her fists as she thought back to the jackass in Starbucks.

Two interns looked up from their envelope-licking and squeaked at the blaze in her eyes, hastily looking back to the floor when Bella raised an eyebrow.

She slammed the door of her office and kicked off her heels, entering her private bathroom and hunting through the small closet there that held emergency clothes for occasions such as this. She found a dark blue chiffon blouse to replace the coffee-stained cream one, also replacing her white bra with a black one.

It was lucky that Bella was aware of her clumsiness and so was able to foresee events like this, hence the spare clothes.

She eventually found a tight, high waisted, pale grey skirt, tossing the ruined skirt and blouse in her laundry hamper.

No doubt her hair was ruined now, as well, Bella thought with a grimace as she recalled how fast she had stalked past everyone.

She scrabbled around in her desk drawers for a hairbrush, grinning triumphantly when she managed to find one, as well as a new tube of mascara that she had completely forgotten about.

Having changed and re-done her hair, leaving it down this time now that it had dried into its natural waves, Bella slipped her heels back on and plucked her coffee from her desk, taking a long sip as she pulled open the blinds that hid the Manhattan skyline from her.

She sighed as the familiar sky-scrapers came into view, wincing when Angela knocked on her door.

"Bella, your 8.30 is here."

"Send her in, Ang," Bella called, rushing into her small kitchenette and pouring the remainder of her latte into a non-descript black mug.

She deposited the coffee mug on her desk and shook hands with the twenty year old girl in front of her, biting her lip when the girl unceremoniously burst into tears.

"I don't want to divorce him, Bella," Leah wept, sinking down into one of the plush chairs in front of Bella's desk. Bella patted her shoulder soothingly, making sympathetic noises even as her eyes found Angela's alarmed ones through the open door.

"Can I get you anything?" Bella asked her, and Leah hiccoughed and nodded.

"Water, please. And a fucking time machine." The sobs intensified and Bella backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Will she be alright?" Angela murmured in concern, filling a small glass with ice water.

Bella sighed. "She's been like this since the beginning of the proceedings. Its half hormones, half self-pity; poor kid." Having noticed that the crying had stopped, Bella thanked Angela for the glass of water and went back into her office.

"Here you go, sweetie," Bella murmured. She sat down on the other side of her desk and took a drink from her coffee. It was too damn early for this. Pushing a box of Kleenex towards Leah, Bella pulled a face. "Leah, if you want to get things finalised today, you have to calm down. For the sake of the twins if nothing else."

"I know," Leah mumbled, taking a drink from the glass. "I just miss him. And I hate his guts. Heinous pig. And in _our bed_," she added in disgust, the last part for her own ears.

Bella hid her smirk behind her coffee mug. Anger she could handle at 8.35am in the morning. Hysterics was another thing entirely.

"We're gonna take him for all that he's worth, you know," Bella said encouragingly, smiling when Leah laughed a little.

"Damn straight," the younger girl replied. "Nobody fucks with me and gets away with it. Besides," she went on, "It's not just about me anymore. There are babies involved. Hey, would you be able to somehow incorporate timesharing our children into the divorce settlement? Get it all over and done with in one sitting?"

Bella pulled a face. "It wouldn't be possible to make any future arrangements for your children, Leah," she said, choosing her words carefully. "You know that Quil wants a DNA test."

Leah scoffed but let it drop. "Fine."

Bella looked at the clock above her door and frowned. "They're late."

"Of course they're late," Leah snorted. "They're men."

"I don't like to be kept waiting," Bella replied impassively.

The two sat there for a few minutes, discussing their approach to the settlement, until Angela finally knocked on Bella's door.

"Bella, they're here. Mediation room okay for you?"

Bella nodded. "Sure." She glanced at Leah's bloodthirstily excited expression. "Leah," she warned, "Don't say anything. If you want to talk, you have to check with me first."

Leah rolled her eyes and agreed. "Let's do this thing! I'm itching to put a down-payment on a new house in LA."

...

Edward wasn't impressed when Quil was almost ten minutes late – by that point he had been waiting almost thirty minutes.

"Quil," he greeted shortly, rolling his eyes at Quil's grunt in reply.

"Come on," Quil sighed. "Let's go and get beat into the ground."

Edward and Quil took their hideous and purposely obnoxious looking 'VISITOR' passes from the lady behind the reception desk and took the elevator up to the Swan offices. Much to Edward's surprise, the top six floors of the sky-scraper they were in were all for the use of the Swan company. He pressed the button for the top floor and was soon greeted by a bespectacled petite woman with blonde hair.

"Hello, I'm Angela, Miss Swan's assistant. I'll show you into the Mediation room if you'll follow me?"

Edward shook her hand politely and raised his eyebrows when Quil ignored her greeting. The two men dutifully followed the woman to a room on the far side of the floor that looked out upon Manhattan.

There was a long table in the middle, effectively splitting the room in two, and three chairs were on either side of the table.

Angela indicated that they should go in. "I'll make Miss Swan aware of your arrival. Excuse me."

Looking down to ensure that his suit jacket was buttoned (to hide the coffee stain on his shirt) Edward d chose to sit on the right of the table and pulled Quil down next to him. "Check with me before you put your foot in your mouth," Edward said, and Quil nodded.

"You got it."

Then the door was opening, and Edward stood up to greet the lawyer that would be his adversary/ally for the next hour or so, depending on the turn of events.

And there, before him, was the beautifully furious face of the woman who had knocked him over in Starbucks not forty minutes before.

Edward stuck out his hand, a charming smile on his face. "Miss Swan, I trust? I'm Edward Cullen."

...

**Hope you liked it! **

**Reviews are appreciated, since I'm supposed to be revising for an exam I have on Friday yet I'm sat here writing Fanfic.**

** Oh well. At least if I fail I have you guys to cheer me up! **


End file.
